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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28657428">Don't Look Down</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/akitsuko/pseuds/akitsuko'>akitsuko</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gotham (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Chief of Staff Edward Nygma, Dating, Declarations Of Love, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Love Confessions, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Matchmaking, Mayor Oswald Cobblepot, Mutual Pining, Pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:35:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28657428</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/akitsuko/pseuds/akitsuko</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He's tried before, on so many occasions, to confess his feelings. It's like nothing he's ever experienced before, and most of the time he wishes he could declare it from the rooftops for all of Gotham to know. He's fallen in love with Edward Nygma.</i>
</p>
<p>Oswald, frustrated by his own feelings, acquires a concoction from Ivy to make Edward love him back - but all is not as it seems.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>139</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. drank him down so deep</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Welcome to this WIP. Gonna be nice and tropey, and will earn its rating in later chapters. Let me know what you think of this start?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"So, you're starting the day with the museum opening," Edward says, effortlessly multitasking as he recites Oswald's schedule whilst fastening his cufflinks. "Then you have a meeting to discuss some proposed planning applications in the inner city."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald is trying to listen, truly, but he's finding it difficult to concentrate on matters of bureaucracy when Edward is so comfortably settled into his personal space. It's increasingly becoming a problem, these days. He can smell Edward's cologne, his shampoo, his hair products. He smells positively divine. Oswald inhales deeply, trying not to make it obvious.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then Edward is gone for a moment, giving Oswald a chance to breathe more easily, before he returns with a tie - mint green with a silver paisley design. He lifts Oswald's collar to slip it around his neck and secure it. Oswald keeps his gaze fixed resolutely above Edward's eye line, his jaw set and his shoulders tense. This is always the most testing part of the morning routine they've fallen into together; it's unbearably tempting, having Edward's face so close to his own, and it stings his heart to know that he lacks the courage to do anything about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's tried before, on so many occasions, to confess his feelings. It's like nothing he's ever experienced before, and most of the time he wishes he could declare it from the rooftops for all of Gotham to know. He's fallen in love with Edward Nygma. But the words stick in his throat, and he can't get them out. It turns out that his fear of rejection is greater than his desire to be brave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He always berates himself for his weakness later on when he's alone, reminding himself that love is nothing but a liability if it's not reciprocated, but it never seems to help during those crucial tongue-tied moments.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can tell, however, that he's running out of time to address the topic on his own terms. Edward may not have the greatest understanding of social procedure, but he's incredibly astute, and there's absolutely no way that he hasn't picked up on Oswald's internal conflict after so many failed attempts to bring it up. It's surely only a matter of time before Edward wants to discuss this particular elephant in the room, and Oswald can only count his blessings that it hasn't come to that yet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward helps him into his waistcoat, then his jacket, smoothing down the lapels and picking away bits of lint that Oswald would swear are invisible. When he's finally satisfied, he moves to stand behind Oswald and smiles at their reflections in the mirror.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just for a moment, Oswald caves to the urge to indulge. He pretends that they're a real couple, that Edward might hug him from behind and press a kiss to the top of his head. He imagines what those arms might feel like when they're wrapped around him, strong and secure, with the warmth of Edward's body pressed up against his back. How wonderful such a thing would be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he clears his throat, shaking the fantasy out of his mind, and forcing himself to meet Edward's eyes in the mirror. "How do I look?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's fishing for the compliment he's certain to receive, but it never fails to warm his soul when he hears it in Edward's voice. Edward is, as always, happy to oblige him, his expression softening as he looks Oswald up and down, his gaze dragging slowly over the details of Oswald's ensemble. "Marvellous," he replies. "You look marvellous." He brushes his hands across Oswald's shoulders and then rests them there, his palms firm as he catches Oswald's gaze once again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something instantly shifts in the atmosphere, leaving it charged and heavy. Oswald gets the sensation of being magnetised, drawn helplessly into the pull of Edward's orbit. His heart beats harder inside his chest, and it seems so loud that Edward must surely be able to hear it. The vague brush of Edward's breath against the back of his neck makes the hair there stand on end, and it singes heat all the way to the tips of his fingers. He licks his lips, because they suddenly feel so dry, and he inhales a sharp breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Much to his combined delight and dismay, this seems to be happening with an increasing frequency. The familiar urge to confess his feelings creeps over him, and he batters it back down. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It's just your imagination, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he tells himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fanciful thinking.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Edward is not only his employee but also his best friend, and is simply behaving accordingly. This constructed tension is not an excuse nor an invitation to leap into his arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As quickly as it arrived, the moment passes. Edward drops his hands and takes a step back, making it marginally easier for Oswald to breathe normally. "I'm going to finalise the preparations for the day," he says, moving past him and towards the door. "I'll see you downstairs."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only when Edward is safely out of the room, with the door closed firmly behind him and Oswald left in privacy, does Oswald allow his head to fall back, glaring at the ceiling with clenched fists and a frustrated groan. He is hopeless. Utterly, utterly hopeless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's past eight in the evening when Edward lets himself into the mayoral office. Almost everyone else in the building has long since gone home. Oswald is hunched over his desk, twirling a pen in his hand and surrounded by a mess of paperwork.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm drowning, Ed," he grumbles, not even needing to look up to know who his guest is. "I wish I had your affinity for admin."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward chuckles as he approaches the desk. "I could get an assistant hired?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The budget is stretched as it is."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I would find a way to make it work." Then Edward is holding up a bottle of red wine that Oswald hadn't even noticed. "It's been a long day. I thought you might appreciate a break."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald is only too pleased to sweep his papers haphazardly aside, gesturing for Edward to sit at the other side of the desk while he reaches down to retrieve two glasses out of his desk drawer. "Where would I be without you, my friend?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward grins widely as he pours them each a generous amount. "I dread to think."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald grins too. They clink their glasses together and drink in companionable silence for a few moments.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're working yourself to exhaustion," Edward eventually says, leaning back in his chair and swirling his wine. "It wouldn't kill you to take a day off once in a while. Or even just an afternoon."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald scoffs, and takes a bigger swig from his glass than is perhaps wise on an empty stomach. "And give those who would usurp me an opportunity to do just that? Absolutely not."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward shakes his head with a fond smile. "No one is going to usurp you, Oswald. I take it upon myself to ensure as much."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's very sweet," Oswald replies, leaning forwards on the desk, "but you can't possibly have your fingers in every pie in Gotham. If I'm seen to be slacking off, you can be sure that some lowlife will try to topple me from power, or make a play for my less </span>
  <em>
    <span>legitimate </span>
  </em>
  <span>empire."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You underestimate my network. I give you my personal guarantee that no major moves can be made without our knowledge. Your position is quite safe."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald gives a noncommittal hum, neither an agreement nor an argument. Although his concerns are genuine, this isn't the sole reason that he commits so wholly to his work. Truthfully, his feelings for Edward are becoming quite a distraction. He worries about how easily his thoughts stray to Edward when he's otherwise unoccupied, and it wouldn't do to give himself unnecessary opportunities to think or behave like a lovestruck fool. Work is an effective tool to keep his focus elsewhere. Idle hands are the Devil's playthings, as people say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward clears his throat gently. "I anticipated that you would be difficult to persuade, so I took the liberty of procuring us an invitation to a party."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"A party?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes. This coming Friday, at the Sirens."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald's face falls at the mention of the venue, but Edward waggles his finger before he can complain about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Think of it as an opportunity to remind Miss Kean that you are not to be trifled with," he continues, "as well as to mingle with your constituents in a more casual setting. It will make you appear more personable."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald fakes affront. "Are you saying that I'm not personable?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Obviously, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>know you to be personable," Edward grins again, the corners of his eyes crinkling endearingly, "but most people don't know you like I do."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I would argue that no one does," Oswald says into his glass. "Sometimes, I think you're the only person who truly sees me."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Rest assured, there's not a minute goes by that I don't appreciate the privilege."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald snorts at that, sure that he's being made fun of, and drains the remainder of his wine. "Likewise. You are an extraordinary man, Edward Nygma."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward gives him a strange look, but Oswald is already feeling a little too loose in the tongue, and is therefore in no fit state to be analysing body language in any depth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then Edward nods to the scattered papers on the desk between them. "How much longer are you planning to stay?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald huffs at the unwelcome reminder of this chore. "As long as it takes. I have to get through all this before the meeting with the commissioner tomorrow."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward pauses in thought, before setting his glass down and standing up decisively. "Are you hungry? I'll get us something delivered."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It takes Oswald a moment to catch his meaning, and when he does he looks up at him in surprise. "You don't need to stay. Go home and get some rest. You do more than enough for me already."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nonsense," Edward dismisses him with a wave of his hand, reaching into his inside pocket to retrieve his phone. "I'm happy to help, it's what I'm here for. Besides, it'll be done faster if we both work at it together."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For several long seconds, Oswald is struck speechless by how lucky he is to have gained such a loyal companion, but Edward is oblivious to his awe as he walks towards the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'll be back in two ticks," he says. Before he can leave, however, Oswald finds his voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thank you, Ed," he says with sincerity. "I really would be lost without you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The smile that Edward sends him in response warms him to his core. "Likewise," he replies, echoing Oswald's earlier sentiment back at him, and throwing him a wink that has Oswald's stomach careening into flip-flops, before leaving Oswald once again alone in the office.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Releasing a breath that he hadn't realised he was holding, Oswald relaxes back into his seat. Sometimes, if the very concept weren't so preposterous, he could almost be convinced that Edward teases him on purpose. The incessant nag of paranoia in his guts whispers that Edward has most certainly noticed how he feels, because he's hardly the most subtle person in the world when it comes to emotions, and is using it as a way of putting him at a disadvantage. He violently attempts to squash that voice back down. The thought that Edward might be mocking or manipulating him is too awful to consider.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He refills his wine glass and takes a large mouthful before setting it down again. The alcohol has an undoubtedly warming effect, but he knows that the prospect of an evening in Edward's company is the real reason that something is simmering under his skin, prickling away at his nerves, even if it is only an evening of work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He catches himself watching the door, waiting for Edward's return, and groans as he drags his hands down his face. This infatuation is doing him no favours at all.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. trees have grown from seeds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I realised that I slipped into a canon plot hole. For the purpose of this fic, Oswald already knows Ivy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They've been at the party for a couple of hours now, and almost every moment has been horrendous. Oswald is taking what he feels is a well-deserved break from mingling, tucked away into one of the booths furthest from the bustle and nursing a glass of strong whiskey. He's glad for the chance to collect his thoughts, even if he is missing Edward's company. The man has somehow managed to disappear into the crowd, despite being one of the tallest people in the room, and Oswald hasn't spotted him for more than twenty minutes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had arrived to the grotesquely false niceties of Barbara Kean, who was no doubt eager to endear herself to Oswald in his mayoral capacity whilst simultaneously plotting to overthrow him from his position as criminal kingpin. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Let her try, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Oswald had thought as he shook her hand and flashed a smile. She's hardly in a position to take him on and expect any sort of success. He would crush her under his thumb.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tabitha, ever present at Barbara's elbow, had been less willing to extend towards him any facade of friendliness, making it more than clear that she objected to his presence in their club. Oswald managed to maintain his smile and didn't explicitly threaten her with bodily violence, which was, as far as he was concerned, as successful an interaction as he could have hoped for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Both women had spared Edward little more than a glance, and he had ignored them in turn.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then had begun the tedium of socialising. With his cane in one hand and a delicate champagne flute in the other, Oswald had embarked on a mission to schmooze with as many of the other attendees as possible. Ever his trusted adviser, Edward had occasionally taken it upon himself to steer him towards ⁷persons of interest, but had otherwise done little but quietly drink and remain at Oswald's side, maintaining the charming persona he put on for the public's benefit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or, at least, the one he </span>
  <em>
    <span>exaggerates </span>
  </em>
  <span>for the public's benefit. Oswald himself is only too aware of Edward's particular brand of charm, the one that makes his eyes twinkle and draws Oswald in like an invisible lasso, even when he isn't trying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then there's the part that he keeps tucked away, the dark and dangerous side of him, cocky and arrogant with just a dash of sadism sprinkled in. Oswald gets to see that too, and it sets his veins on fire, heat pulsing through his guts with the sheer 7thrill of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward is… unrivalled. In every way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The intensity of Oswald's feelings for him is frequently overwhelming. He finds himself consciously appreciating the series of events (fate?) that brought Edward into his life in the first place. That initial meeting at the GCPD, and then the bullet that compelled Edward to save his life. Sometimes, it's a good feeling. He allows himself to be swept away in the fluttering joy of being in Edward's presence, content simply to know that Edward is there with him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But it can also be a source of immense frustration. To know that he has Edward, but simultaneously that he most certainly </span>
  <em>
    <span>does not </span>
  </em>
  <span>have him, is often difficult to reconcile in his mind. He's an inherently selfish man; he's more than aware of this particular character flaw, but that awareness doesn't make him any more willing to settle for less than everything he wants.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Facing this predicament, wanting something that he cannot have, never fails to sour his mood. Hence his choice to spend the remainder of this party, as far as is possible, drinking himself into apathy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, that plan is disrupted when a familiar young woman slides into the booth opposite him. He wants to be annoyed at the intrusion on his solitude, but in truth he's grateful for the company; it's unfortunately rare that he has the opportunity to converse with anyone who actually genuinely likes him without any ulterior motives. All he can manage is a vaguely disgruntled expression, which she either sees straight through or brazenly ignores as she gets herself comfortable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ivy," he says. "Lovely to see you. Aren't you a little young to be here?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She takes a deliberate sip from her sparkling drink, and makes a face at him. "Aren't you a little old to be here?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald scowls. He is certainly not that old, no matter how thoroughly he feels every one of his thirty-one years. He has to remind himself that, despite her appearance, she's still very much a teenager at heart, with the sense of humour to go with it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I saw you sitting by yourself, and I thought I'd keep you company for a bit," she continues, then pointedly looks around. "Isn't your boyfriend here?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He is not my boyfriend!" Oswald barely keeps himself from yelling, clenching his fists on top of the table. It occurs to him a moment later that his overreaction has incriminated him, especially if Ivy's smug, knowing look is anything to go by. The fact that he knows to whom she is referring is… telling, because he's never told her about his romantic inclinations towards Edward.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes a breath to settle himself again. There's no point trying to backtrack. "Edward is here somewhere. He's not a fan of parties, so he must have found something to keep him busy. And what are you doing here? How did you even get in?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I have my ways," she says, eyes alight with mischief, before she slumps under Oswald's stern gaze. "Fine, I used my perfume to make some guy bring me in as his plus-one. You remember, that perfume I created that can make people do whatever I want? I've improved the formula since I last saw you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Is that right?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mm-hmm." She takes another drink. "Its effects last longer now. I had to make it better, after I nearly got caught that one time."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I recall you telling me. I have to say, I'm glad you're taking improved precautions."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ivy giggles. "Nah, I know you'd rescue me if I ever got into any real trouble."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald rolls his eyes, but he too knows that it's true. Ever since he met Ivy, he's felt protective of her, like the younger sister he never had. She's reckless in her activities, which Oswald has berated her about in the past, but since she's adamant about continuing her little thefts, the best Oswald can do is come to her aid if she ever finds herself in too deep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Anyway, how's it going with you?" she asks. "Is it fun, being the mayor?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"'Fun' isn't the word I would choose for it," he replies. "And you didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She groans, loudly and dramatically. "Jeez, you're such a bore. If you must know, I thought it would be fun to get some free drinks and persuade a few rich dudes to give me their expensive watches and rings. Happy?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald shakes his head, although he knows that there's nothing he could possibly say to dissuade her. "Just don't let those witches, Barbara and Tabitha, catch you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No one's going to catch me. So stop worrying."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He supposes that she'll be fine, he thinks as he swirls his remaining whiskey in its glass, as long as she keeps herself doused in enough of that perfume of hers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You look sad, Pengy," she says, and he looks up sharply in surprise. "What's wrong?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What makes you think anything is wrong?" he instantly barks in response, before realising that his tone is perhaps a little on the harsh side. "It's nothing you need to concern yourself with."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He drinks to keep his mouth busy. Honestly, it would be nice to talk to someone about his tumultuous emotional state, and he really doesn't have that many options. But that won't do. Ivy might be just about the closest thing he has to a friend, apart from Edward, but she's hardly a suitable confidant. He's not about to go spilling his guts like a desperate schoolboy to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Besides, she's still young, so she hardly has a wealth of experience that would allow her to relate to him or to advise him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She's silent for a while, and Oswald pretends not to notice how intently she's watching him. Only when he eventually meets her gaze, expectantly waiting for her to speak, does she gasp and lean forward slightly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, honey!" she exclaims, her voice hushed as if to avoid being overheard. "You're in love."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald chokes, suddenly also paranoid that they'll be overheard. He looks around furtively to make sure no one is lurking near their booth before hissing back at her, "How could you possibly know that?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gives him an 'are you serious?' look. "Please. Teenage girls invented that lovesick expression you're wearing. Oh my god, it's </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, isn't it? That's so adorable!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Internally panicking, Oswald can feel himself starting to blush. "Will you keep your voice down?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sorry, sorry." Her grin suggests that she isn't sorry at all. "But I'm right, aren't I? I knew it, as soon as I saw a picture of you two in the paper!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald isn't sure what to say. "I… We're not… He doesn't…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ivy's excited expression falls as understanding dawns. "Tell me he didn't reject you. I'll knock some sense into him myself."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At her seriousness, Oswald can't help but let out a small and exasperated laugh. "I haven't told him."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh." Ivy considers this information for a moment.  "Well, you should. He's obsessed with you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald rolls his eyes again. "You don't know Ed," he says. "Being attentive is just who he is. Besides, I've tried to tell him, and I can't do it."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Ivy dismisses him. "Since when were you such a coward?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anyone else might receive a knife in the thigh for such a comment. But now that Oswald has started talking about it, against his better judgement, the words are just falling out of his mouth. "Since he bewitched me, apparently. I go to tell him, but I end up saying something else entirely. He must think I have some sort of cognitive impairment, by now."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ivy's expression is very serious. "I could, y'know, </span>
  <em>
    <span>influence </span>
  </em>
  <span>him?" she suggests, miming the squirt of a perfume bottle to make her meaning clear, but Oswald immediately shakes his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't you dare. I have to deal with this myself. While I appreciate your offer, this is too important to me."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She visibly softens, looking at him like some sweet thing, and reaches out to cover his hand with her own. "You are too cute," she says, immune to Oswald's instant scoff. "Come on, I want you to be happy. I can help."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't need your help," Oswald reiterates, firmer this time. "I'm a grown man, and I'm perfectly capable of dealing with my own life, thank you very much."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Is everything alright, Oswald?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Both of them turn at the same time to see Edward, who has approached their booth with a stealth that Oswald is surprised to find him capable of. He stands there, tall and stern, looking between the two of them with blatant suspicion written all over his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Immediately, Oswald's stomach drops as he worries about how much of the conversation Edward has heard. "Ed!" he exclaims, overcompensating for his fear with a wide smile. "I was starting to wonder where you'd got to. Everything's perfectly fine."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward is still eyeing Ivy, and she's unabashedly staring back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"This is him?" she asks, and Edward looks marginally confused while Oswald delivers a swift kick to her shin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Oswald answers through gritted teeth. "This is Edward, my Chief of Staff. Ed, this is Ivy, a friend of mine."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ivy gives him a wave, but Edward just blinks. "You were talking about me?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald forces a laugh. "Not to worry, I was singing your praises."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ivy snorts. Oswald shoots her a glare, readying himself to shout some very unkind words in her direction, but she starts to move to get out of the booth. "I'm gonna leave you two to it," she says, smoothing down her dress and retrieving her glass to take with her. "Time to go and make myself a few new friends. Later, Pengy. Remember, I can hook you up."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>thank you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ivy," he says pointedly. Fortunately, she takes the hint and disappears into the crowd without embarrassing him any further, even if she does still have a smirk on her face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What was that about?" Edward asks him, his expression still frustratingly difficult to read, and Oswald finds himself fumbling for something believable to say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It doesn't matter," is all that he eventually comes up with. He downs the rest of his whiskey and stands up also, while Edward ijust keeps looking at him </span>
  <em>
    <span>like that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oswald-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald cuts him off, plastering that wide smile back on his face. "Shall we, to the bar? I, for one, need another drink."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The car ride back home is nothing short of torturous. Edward hasn't left his side since he interrupted the discussion with Ivy, and although he hasn't tried to probe the subject any further, it's obvious that he's churning over the interaction in his brain. He's quieter than usual, distracted. To Oswald, trying to maintain a conversation is akin to pulling teeth, all his efforts met with short, closed responses.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, as they drive through the dark streets, Edward is content to stare out of the window as he taps his index finger rhythmically against his knee. It's driving Oswald quite insane. He's given up on attempting to open a dialogue with him, but he can only take so much of this strained silence before he snaps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ed," he demands, "what is wrong with you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With some reluctance, Edward turns to meet his gaze. "Hm?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You've been behaving strangely. You know, you can tell me if something is bothering you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward fidgets in his seat. His jaw is set with tension. "I don't trust that woman you were with," is what he eventually answers, refusing to look Oswald in the face, and if Oswald didn't know better he might entertain the theory that Edward is sulking out of jealousy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ivy?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"She gave me a strange feeling, like something wasn't right. What did she mean, that she would 'hook you up'?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward looks genuinely concerned, so Oswald hurries to reassure him. "That's what you've been worrying about all evening? It was nothing sinister, I can assure you. Ivy has an affinity for plants and flowers, and she enjoys creating new fragrances. She was simply offering to make one for me."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward raises an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's true!" Oswald insists, leaving out the part about the unique properties of Ivy's perfumes. "She's young and a little eccentric, but she's harmless. You certainly don't need to be alarmed."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward seems far from convinced, but brings an end to the discussion with a low, "Alright," before turning back to face the window. He resumes the tapping of his finger.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald sighs heavily, but he's not sure what else he can say without letting slip anything incriminating, so he settles back into his seat and says nothing at all, trying to ignore the thickness that still lingers in the air between them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Later on, when he's under the covers in his king sized bed, it's his own business if he imagines what it would be like if Edward really could fall in love with him.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. they crack my bones</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry I'm slow, I always have been with WIPs, but I think I'm getting my mojo back :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Oswald fidgets. He tries not to. He clears his throat and makes an effort to focus on the newspaper in front of him, but although he reads the words, he knows he would be unable to recall the information. His gaze flits nervously across the open pages, one section to another in no semblance of order, and he shifts again in his armchair.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward's stare bores into the side of his skull, the intensity of it almost a tangible, physical presence. There's only so long that he can pretend he hasn't noticed. His tongue moves inside his mouth, itching to speak and break what feels like an incredibly awkward silence. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the open book resting in Edward's lap, and he's acutely aware that no pages have been turned for some time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The tension is thick. Oswald is strung tight and ready to snap.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At the same moment that he takes a breath, ready to demand an explanation for the staring, Edward speaks into the otherwise empty room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I conceal what's real, and hide what's true, yet often I bring out courage in you. What am I?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald gives up any pretense of being interested in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gazette</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and meets Edward's stare with bewilderment. Riddles out of the blue rarely signify anything good. "You know this isn't one of my strengths."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>An amused grin splits across Edward's face. "Would you like a hint?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Just tell me," Oswald answers, refusing to be drawn into a guessing game that will no doubt only result in his embarrassment. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> "It's make-up," reveals Edward, closing his book and setting it down beside him. "You've done yours a little differently today than you usually do. It looks good."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald blinks, because it's true, he has made a few changes to his usual look. His normal routine involves concealing his freckles and emphasising his eyelashes, but this morning he had also used a dark purple kohl pencil to tightline his eyes, smudging it out with a hint of black shadow at the outer corners. It had been a moment of experimentation, and he had been genuinely shocked by how the small changes made the green of his eyes pop that much more. Subtle, and yet striking. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All the images he sees of himself in the media always seem to make him look tired, older than his years. If he wants to maintain public favour, he decided that looking the part is the least he ought to do.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Besides, he would be lying if he denied that he'd also hoped to gain Edward's attention with the new look. Any compliment from Edward gives his poor, lovesick brain a hit of serotonin that he finds absolutely addictive. This one has certainly delivered; he averts his gaze, trying to conceal a bashful smile that pushes at his lips in response to the praise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You don't think it's too much?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Not at all," Edward responds. "It makes you seem confident and dangerous. More so than before, anyway."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald may be able to fight against a dopey smile, but there's nothing he can do about the colour he can feel slowly heating his cheeks. He turns his head away slightly, both hoping to appear nonchalant and also to hide the telltale blush. "I like the sound of that. I was afraid I might look ridiculous."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He's aware that he's fishing for another compliment. From Edward, they are music to his ears, something to replay in his mind when he's alone in his room at night. Fortunately, Edward seems only too willing to oblige.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Nothing could be further from the truth. I think it's breathtaking."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald's blush intensifies tenfold, his eyes widening as he processes the words. It's too easy to imagine a deeper meaning, to pretend that Edward is confessing to finding him physically attractive, and that thought makes his heart race in his chest. After a moment, Edward seems to realise how his statement might have sounded, and he clears his throat awkwardly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I mean," he backtracks, "it suits you, almost like it completes your image. Whereas someone like me certainly </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> look ridiculous. You have the right… facial structure."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He's fumbling for words, which is not something that Oswald sees from him very often. Still flustered himself, Oswald allows himself to look back at Edward again and holds up a hand to cut off any further rambling. "Thank you, Ed. I'm pleased that you approve."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward smiles at him, any tension eased, and they return to their respective reading materials in silence once more. Oswald has barely managed to distractedly skim a paragraph before Edward continues the conversation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What's the occasion?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"For the…" Edward says, gesturing towards his own eyes to clarify his meaning.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh. I just felt that the time is right to upgrade my public image. I have to ensure that the people of this city continue to trust me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I see."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward goes quiet again, but it's not so comfortable this time. There's something about the set of his jaw and the tension in his brows that tells Oswald there's more to this topic than simply making conversation. What that is, he can't possibly imagine, and he can only draw a blank as he thinks about it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Is there something the matter?" he eventually asks. He's not quite prepared for the guarded expression on Edward's face as their eyes meet, and he's not sure what to make of it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's nothing," says Edward, but his tone betrays him, too carefully neutral to be anything but suspicious. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald narrows his eyes as he replays their conversation so far in his mind, trying to pinpoint the moment that Edward's demeanour shifted. Reading people is one of his skills, and it has helped him out of many difficult situations in the past. Although Edward tends to present more of a challenge than most, he's thankfully quite predictable also, and that quality has helped Oswald to identify many patterns in his behaviour, as well as what triggers them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You think I'm hiding something from you," he concludes aloud. Edward parts his lips in surprise, and Oswald can't help feeling smug that he was correct.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then Edward grins, sheepish, and ducks his head. "You have an uncanny ability to see right through me. I shouldn't have expected anything less."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A wave of fondness passes through Oswald in the face of Edward's deference. How is it possible that such a brilliant man thinks so highly of him?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What, exactly, do you suspect I'm not telling you?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward stiffens a little as his grin fades from his face. "That woman," he eventually says. "I don't understand why you trust her."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Finding himself flummoxed, Oswald isn't sure what to say at first. He has no idea to whom Edward is referring; he only has a handful of females in his acquaintance, trusting even fewer, and none of them bar Olga have been anywhere near him for at least a week. While Olga hasn't exactly warmed to Edward, it's still perplexing to imagine that Edward has reason to be so opposed to her presence. So the comment is unlikely to be in reference to Olga, but Oswald struggles to come up with an alternative that makes sense.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What are you talking about?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ivy."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ivy?"</span>
  </em>
  <span> That party had been almost two weeks ago. Oswald had been under the impression that the strained introduction between two of his only friends had been left in the past where it belonged. Somehow, he had forgotten about Edward's inability to simply let things go. "Ed, I told you-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I remember what you told me," Edward interrupts. "But I have a gut feeling that she was up to something less savoury than simply selling you a fragrance."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald scoffs, using dismissal to help hide the whole truth. "A 'gut feeling' hardly sounds logical."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Rather than getting Edward to drop the subject, his comment has the opposite effect of riling the man up. "Don't patronise me," he answers, a definite edge to his tone now. "I'm trying to look out for you."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Whilst I appreciate the thought, I do not need you to look out for me. Ivy is certainly not a threat, and I am more than capable of deciding for myself who I should and should not trust."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald can feel himself beginning to lose his temper. Honestly, an argument would be preferable to Edward probing too close to the truth, and he's willing to make it happen if necessary. But Edward's next snarled words derail him entirely.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you sure that a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fragrance </span>
  </em>
  <span>is the only thing she's looking to 'hook you up' with?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The comment stops Oswald in his tracks. Edward's making an implication that is difficult to misconstrue. He's glaring at Oswald with dark eyes, his posture hardened, almost baring his teeth. A feral animal, waiting for the slightest provocation to lash out. At once, Oswald finds himself shocked, insulted, and hurt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What are you implying?" He hopes to hear a contradiction, or an apology, but he receives neither.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward's eyes narrow. "Don't pretend that you don't know what I mean. You're the mayor. You're a man of great power and wealth. There are plenty of opportunists out there who would leap at the chance to get a slice of either."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You really think I'm looking for a-... a </span>
  <em>
    <span>dalliance?"</span>
  </em>
  <span> Oswald splutters. Fury simmers under his skin at the notes of disgust and judgement in Edward's tone, moments away from bubbling over. Even though Edward has managed to completely miss the mark, it stings to realise that the idea of him in such an arrangement repulses Edward that much. He's ready to defend himself out of principle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Edward isn't done. "I think that you're a liability to yourself. You can't help but crave approval, regardless of the form it takes, and it makes you blind to the intentions of others. You're already out to make a good impression." He gives a pointed look to indicate the makeup that sparked this discussion in the first place.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I've heard enough." Oswald stands abruptly, and makes to leave the room. "I don't know who you think you're speaking to, Ed, but how I choose to spend my time and who I choose to spend it with are none of your goddamn business."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He storms from the room without a backward glance.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For the remainder of the day, Oswald does not speak to Edward, and Edward makes no attempt to speak to him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a time, the hurt had given way to outrage and disbelief. While he can appreciate that Edward takes his role in Oswald's employ very seriously, and it's true that their friendship outside of that is also a strong one, he still finds it inconceivable that Edward thinks it's his place to tell Oswald what he can and cannot do. He's killed people for lesser offences in the past. Edward ought to consider himself lucky that his head is still attached to his neck.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And the way he had spoken, as if there were something shameful in the thought of Oswald being engaged in any remotely intimate activity, continues to make something very unpleasant curdle in the pit of Oswald's stomach. It has smothered all but the final tendrils of hope that perhaps, by some miracle, Edward might reciprocate his feelings. If that were true, he couldn't have sounded so revolted by the idea.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Edward finally approaches him, it's late in the evening, and Oswald is sitting on the edge of his bed while he attempts to rub the aches of the day from his crooked leg. He's grouchy and he's tired, and he's ready to fall beneath his luxurious sheets, so when three soft raps sound at his bedroom door, all he can do is bark out an impatient, "Yes?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward steps into the room, crossing halfway towards Oswald but coming to a standstill a fair distance away. "I owe you an apology, Oswald."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald's heart leaps with joy, but his mouth doesn't get the message. "You don't say?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward ignores his biting sarcasm. "I'm sorry that I didn't trust your judgement. The way I spoke to you was uncalled for, and my accusation was ungrounded. One of the things I most admire about you is your fierce ambition, so far be it from me to try to interfere with your business."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald eyes him cautiously. He's still annoyed, but he's helpless to prevent his anger melting away more and more with every word Edward says. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"On reflection," Edward continues, "I think I may have been projecting my own fears onto you. I've been thinking a lot about what happened to Miss Kringle, and about how much I wish I could have protected her. Perhaps I was hoping that I could atone, somewhat, if I could protect you instead."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Listen, Ed," says Oswald, feeling a stab in his chest at the mention of Edward's ex-girlfriend and the reminder that he is very much the opposite of Edward's type, "I understand that you feel guilty. However, please understand that I am not so fragile, and it's not part of your job description to protect me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I know that. I do." Edward shuffles on the spot. "But it's not just that. I think of her, and I wonder if I will ever be lucky enough to find a love like that again. If I can ever deserve such a thing."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald's gaze finally softens. "Of course you do-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I hurt those who are important to me," Edward interrupts. "I stand by what I said to you at my old apartment, that men like us are better off unencumbered by emotional ties. Still, I crave it. And the thought that I might never find another…"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looks so unsure in this moment, so pitiful, so very much like the naive young man who saved Oswald's life in the woods that day, that all Oswald wants to do is leap to his feet and clasp him by the shoulders to shake some sense into him. He stays resolutely right where he is. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't be ridiculous. Anyone who would turn you down is a fool."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward's lips quirk into a small, quick smile, and then he drops his gaze back to the floor. "I was pushing my insecurities on to you, and I'm sorry."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Let's forget about it. For the record, I appreciate your honesty." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There's so much more that Oswald wishes he could be brave enough to say. He would declare his own devotion to Edward, convince him that he doesn't need to find a new Miss Kringle because Oswald is already right here, and they could have the most unbreakable connection if Edward would just allow himself to take that step.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He shifts, and then grimaces when the movement jars his leg. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward's eagle eyes don't miss a thing. "Are you in pain?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Nothing out of the ordinary, I can assure you." Oswald is going for nonchalance, but knows immediately that he was unsuccessful.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward hovers for a moment, almost like he's about to step forward into Oswalds space. An internal conflict plays out across his features, and it's several long moments before he finally says, "Good night, Oswald. I'll see you in the morning."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then he's gone, out of the room as swiftly as he had arrived, and Oswald is alone once more.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He turns off the lamp, and settles himself under the sheets, but he can't get comfortable. His mind is racing, processing Edward's apology and subsequent admission. There's a glaring solution to Edward's insecurity, and the more Oswald thinks about it, the more he convinces himself that perhaps the fates really have conspired to being the two of them to this point. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before he can second-guess himself, he sits up again in bed, snatches his phone from the bedside table, and dials Ivy's number.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. drink up, drink in</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh, it's all starting to happen now!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"He thought you were trying to organise a prostitute for me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ivy throws her head back and cackles. "Are you serious? Oh, that is just priceless!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Although Oswald can see the funny side of it, her amusement still makes him disgruntled and indignant. "This is what happens when you aren't discrete enough. He could barely stomach the idea."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I bet he couldn't." Ivy wipes an imaginary tear from her eye. "I wish I could've been there to see his face."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I'm glad you weren't," Oswald mumbles. "It was humiliating."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You poor thing, Ozzie. Lucky for you," Ivy rummages inside her handbag and produces a small, glass jar, "I have the answer to all your problems right here."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald leans forward to get a better look, intrigued. The jar contains a liquid that is almost clear, with a hint of pink if tilted a certain way in the light. On even closer inspection, he can see tiny, shimmering flecks settled at the bottom. "This is it?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yep," Ivy confirms. "Here, have a sniff."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald rears back as Ivy unscrews the lid of the jar, eyeing her warily, but Ivy just rolls her eyes at him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, relax. Smelling it won't do a thing to you. You have to ingest this one before it'll work."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He's still reluctant, but he's also curious, and he leans back in again as Ivy holds the open jar under his nose. It's faintly floral, and sweet, almost sickly. It reminds him of childhood medicine.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, he questions himself, wondering whether this is really the right thing to do. He'd arranged to meet Ivy near the docks to avoid being noticed, particularly by Edward, who fortunately already has a jam-packed schedule of his own today. The only other person who knows that he's here is his driver, waiting in the car around the corner. This is strictly a need-to-know arrangement.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Is he really about to drug Edward and induce some crude imitation of love? When he thinks about it like that, it's easy to second-guess the decision. He is… not a good person. He came to terms with that truth a long time ago, and even embraced it. However, he usually does his best not to bring harm to the people he cares about, despite his endeavours often being unsuccessful. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How can this possibly end well? It wouldn't be real for either of them, and if Edward ever found out what he'd done, there would be no telling what he might do. The man is, after all, a murderer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And yet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So, I just get him to drink this?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ivy nods, screwing the lid back on securely. "Yeah. Put it in his drink, or mix it up with his food."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald is selfish. If this is the only way he might get to experience Edward's love for himself, he's not sure he has the strength to turn it down for too long. And with Edward's confession about wanting to find love again, Oswald has little trouble justifying this. He can almost convince himself that he's doing Edward a favour, and trying to negate some of his unhappiness. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If he's able to enjoy the benefits too, more the better.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You've just got to make sure that you're the first person he sees after he's taken it," Ivy continues. "Easy as pie. Guaranteed to work."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She hands the vial over, and Oswald takes it carefully. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How long does it last?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Forever. I think. It's a really good blend. If you think it's starting to wear off, I can always get you a top-up."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald tucks the vial into his inside pocket. A hint of doubt continues to eat away at his brain. "Is there a way to undo it? If I change my mind?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ivy blinks a few times in surprise. "Why would you want to do that?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Just tell me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't know, I've never really thought about it. I guess… I mean, you can always engineer an antidote to any kind of poison, so I don't see why the same thing wouldn't apply here. I'd need to work on it, though."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald doesn't reply. The jar suddenly feels very heavy inside his pocket, and Ivy must be able to see something in his expression, because she reaches out to pat him on the shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't overthink it," she says. "I'm telling you, he already likes you. He just needs a shove in the right direction."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You didn't see the look on his face. He's my friend, but anything more than that is unthinkable to him. This is a violation that he may never forgive."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So just never tell him," Ivy responds, as if it could be that easy. "This will feel natural to him, trust me. There'll be no reason to suspect anything, so if you don't say anything, he'll never know any different."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her attitude towards human emotion will never cease to amaze Oswald. "You're morally bankrupt. You know that, right?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You're not exactly a saint yourself."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They chuckle together, and oddly it makes Oswald feel a little better. Knowing that Ivy will be in his corner regardless of the outcome makes the decision he's made a little less daunting. If he's honest with himself, he's not sure that anything could have realistically changed his mind, doubts or no, but he feels like a better person for having at least considered it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Will he have any side effects?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Nope. I told you, it's a good blend."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What's in it?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah, ah." Ivy taps the side of her nose. "That's my secret. All my formulas are just for me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald sighs. "I can hardly believe I'm doing this."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Come on," Ivy pouts. "All you're doing is speeding up something that would have happened sooner or later anyway. You deserve to have someone who loves you. This will make it happen."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Smoothing over the outside of his jacket and feeling the outline of the vial beneath, Oswald wishes he could be as certain as she seems to be.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He has Olga prepare an especially elaborate dinner that evening. Initially, he'd wanted to make everything himself, but had easily conceded that Olga would do a vastly superior job. He doesn't mention just how special this dinner will be; that's something he intends to keep to himself. However, it's clear that Olga knows something is going on, because she becomes increasingly frustrated with his hovering around the kitchen and eventually shoos him out so that she can cook in peace.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, that leaves him with little else to do but fret about the evening to come, so he ends up spending an inordinate amount of time trying to perfect his look. It's almost silly, because Edward has already seen him at his absolute worst, but he figures there's no harm in trying to eke out another compliment or two. Edward had, after all, indicated that he appreciates the more made-up aesthetic.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So he sits at his dressing table and ponders over his makeup collection for longer than seems sane. In the end, he sweeps a grey shadow over his eyelids, blending it out with black in the outsides. He lines the top with his dark purple kohl, and dabs a touch of lilac highlight in his inner corners. In a moment of inspiration, because he likes the look more than he anticipated, he also flutters the highlight across his cheekbones. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He then spends an awful lot of time taming his hair to perfection, swooping it up and away from his face. As he adds a final layer of hairspray, it occurs to him how pointless it is to be making all this effort. The whole point of the evening is that Edward will fall for him regardless of his appearance. He could shave off his eyebrows and wear a potato sack to dinner, for all it matters, although the very idea offends his vanity and makes him wrinkle his nose in disgust.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He's shocked when he eventually glances up to look at the time and realises that it won't be much longer until Edward gets home. He checks his reflection one last time, trying to quell the butterflies in his stomach, before hurrying down to the dining room to make the final preparations.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He's chosen a sweet red wine for the occasion, hoping that it will sufficiently disguise the taste of Ivy's potion. The table is set, and the glasses are ready. He takes the vial from his pocket and empties its contents into Edward's glass before he can think too hard about it, topping it off with the wine, before filling his own glass also. It's a relief to discover that both glasses smell the same, but he'll have to take his chances with the taste, because he's not willing to test it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Olga!" he yells. "How is that food coming along?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Is ready," her voice announces, surprisingly close, and it almost makes Oswald jump to realise she's at the doorway to the dining room. He hopes she didn't see him dose Edward's wine, momentarily panicking, before reminding himself that it's irrelevant because he doesn't pay her to interfere in his business. "You want now?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What? No. Bring it through once Edward and I are ready and seated."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Da."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As swiftly as she had appeared, she vanishes again. Oswald forces himself to relax his facial muscles, unclench his jaw, and take a deep, calming breath. He's still fussing with the table settings when he hears the front door, and he hurries through to meet Edward as he arrives.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Welcome back, Ed," he says, trying to keep his nerves in check. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward's face softens as their eyes meet, a small smile gracing his features. For what feels like the umpteenth time, Oswald is struck by his effortless beauty. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oswald," Edward greets him. "Is everything alright?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He prays that he pulls off an easy nonchalance. "Nothing could be better. I've asked Olga to prepare a dish my mother used to make for dinner. I hoped that you would join me?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course," is Edward's immediate response. "That sounds wonderful. Give me a few minutes, and I'll meet you in the dining room?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald can't help his relieved grin as Edward strides through to the study, presumably to discard his workload from the day. He wasn't sure how he would have proceeded if, for some reason, Edward had turned down the invitation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By the time Edward returns, Oswald has the two wine glasses in his hands, and he gives one to Edward without hesitation. Edward's smile remains, blissfully unaware of what is about to happen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm doing him a favour, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Oswald reminds himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He said he wanted love, and that's what he will get.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"To the future, my friend," he declares, holding his glass up for a toast. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"The future," Edward agreed, indulging him. Their clinking glasses clink delicately together, and Oswald watches with rapt attention, drinking from his own glass, as Edward meets his eyes and takes his first sip. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The next few moments have Oswald's stomach knotted into a ball of anxiety. Edward holds his glass up to the light, a curious expression on his face as he processes the taste and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Oswald helplessly tracks the motion.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"An interesting wine," Edward eventually comments, but he does take another sip. "Which is it?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's a vintage port." Oswald grabs the bottle from the table, offering it to him for his perusal. "It's not too sweet for you, is it?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward takes the bottle and inspects the label. "Not at all. It certainly has a unique flavour."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That it does. But I thought it would be the perfect accompaniment to the meal."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They sit. As if summoned by telepathy, Olga appears with the first dishes; Oswald is thrilled to note the distinct similarities to his mother's cooking, and Edward seems to be impressed as well, closing his eyes briefly as he takes his first bite. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And Oswald watches, takes notice every time Edward takes a sip of his wine throughout the meal. He doesn't want to make Edward suspicious, so he forces himself not to stare too much, but he finds it impossible to fully relax until Edward has drained the last few drops and is reaching for the bottle to refill his glass. Conversation comes a little easier to him after that. He remembers to ask about the details of Edward's business dealings throughout the day, and they discuss strategies for dealing with one of the smaller gangs who are starting to get ideas above their station.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All the while, Oswald is waiting for the effects of the potion to kick in. He's not entirely sure what to expect; he'd forgotten to ask Ivy about the particulars. He'd simply assumed that the change would be obvious enough to notice, a sudden shift in Edward's attitude towards him. Perhaps it will be more gradual than that. Perhaps Edward will pass out, or thrash as if in the throes of torture. He really has no idea.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As it turns out, there is no noticeable change at all. Their companionable meal comes to its natural conclusion, and the only unusual thing to occur is that Edward complains of a headache. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Immediately, Oswald is worried. If this concoction has an adverse effect on Edward, he will have no idea how to handle it. He bites his lip as he watches Edward massage his temples with his forefinger, and he itches to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something. </span>
  </em>
  <span>"Can I help at all?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward flashes him another sweet smile, but it's more strained this time. "I probably just need to get an early night. I've been working late a lot recently, and I think this is my body's way of making me get some quality rest."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I quite agree. I can't have you burning out on me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward's shoulders shake with a silent laugh. "You're the biggest workaholic I've ever met. You should take your own advice once in a while."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"The criminal world waits for no man," Oswald responds, and Edward tips his head in concession. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's been a nice evening, because he really does enjoy spending time with Edward, but he can't help but be disappointed with the lack of forthcoming declarations of love. It isn't long before Edward excuses himself to go to bed, and Oswald is left alone to drum his fingers on the surface of the table in front of him. This wasn't how he had expected- well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hoped</span>
  </em>
  <span>- that his night would end. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He opts to retire to bed himself, oddly deflated now that he's deprived of Edward's company, leaving the mess on the table for Olga to clear away at her leisure. He goes through his routine with a tired resignation. Changes into his sleepwear, removes his makeup, brushes his teeth. Gets into his bed, </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just before he drifts into an unsatisfying sleep, he fires off a quick text to Ivy:</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It didn't work.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>***</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When he wakes up the following morning, he's greeted by the most delicious aroma. Before he even opens his eyes, his stomach is rumbling and he knows that he needs a taste of whatever it is that smells so good.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn't occur to him, at first, to wonder why Olga is making something other than the usual, continental-style spread. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then there's a knock at his door, too soft to be Olga, which only leaves one other person it could be. He doesn't even get the chance to say anything before the door opens and Edward comes into his room, balancing a tray with his free hand. The smell hits him with greater strength immediately, and his mouth waters without his permission. He lifts his head, puzzled, as Edward approaches and carefully places the tray on his bedside table. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Good morning, Oswald," he says, a hypnotising warmth in his expression. "I made you breakfast."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You did?" It always takes a few moments of waking up properly before Oswald is able to form intelligent questions.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yep," Edward replies, popping the 'p'. "Oats with honey and cinnamon. Poached egg on an English muffin. Fresh yogurt with mixed berries. And, of course, a strong coffee." He perches himself on the edge of Oswald's bed, almost vibrating with energy, grin splitting his face from ear to ear. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald takes a long look at the tray, and he has to admit that it all looks incredible. Questions clamour all at once inside his head, and as such he struggles to form a single coherent thought.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What for?" is what he manages to come up with, but Edward does not appear to be fazed by his vagueness.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Just because you deserve it," he answers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald blinks a few times. He's still not quite awake enough to decipher this unexpected behaviour. And apparently he takes too long to respond, because Edward clears his throat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Actually, I have something important that I need to tell you."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh?" Right away, Oswald anticipates bad news. He wishes he could at least be dressed before he has to hear it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As it happens, he needn't have worried, because Edward's next words render him entirely unconcerned about anything else in the world.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm in love with you."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. the lights were on but everything was gone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It's as though Oswald's lungs have filled with cement. All the air is knocked out, and he has forgotten how to breathe.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The memories of the previous evening come to him in an instant, and he blinks slowly as the realisation dawns on him. It worked. It had just needed a little time. Ivy's potion has done exactly what she said it would do, and has made Edward fall in love with him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward Nygma is in love with him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The thought breaks his brain. He stares like an idiot, propped up on one elbow, his mouth uselessly hanging open. Any response he might be able to muster dies before it reaches his tongue.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His silence evidently stretches for too long, because the hopeful smile on Edward's face starts to falter.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't expect you to reciprocate," he hurries to clarify. "You've already done so much for me. And please don't think that this needs to affect our professional relationship, because I can assure you-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Wait, Ed," Oswald interrupts him, holding one hand up and shaking his head in an attempt to get his thoughts in order. "Stop. Just stop talking. Let me think."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, it's too much for him to process. He had been ready for it last night, expecting it, even. But now, having spent the night reconciling with the failure of his plot to give Edward a nudge in the right direction, he finds himself utterly unprepared for an outright declaration of love. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And knowing it to be false, induced only by Ivy's potion, makes his heart clench painfully. That's another feeling that he hadn't expected.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But this is what he'd wanted, there's no doubt about that. The light is back in Edward's eyes. The man thrives on doling out love and affection, and Oswald has provided him with an outlet for it. For once, they both get to win. Surely, that can only be a good thing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward, however, can only keep quiet for so long before he begins to fidget. "I've made you uncomfortable."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald shakes his head again. "No, that's not it. Not at all. I just need a moment to process this."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's an understatement, if ever there was one; a moment is insufficient for the conflicting emotions scrambling for the dominant spot in his brain. Shock wars with joy, uncertainty clamours against elation. Guilt gnaws at the underbelly of them all, which he batters back down with a metaphorical sledgehammer. He made this choice, and there's no use questioning his own ethics now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He knows that he ought to be over the moon with this turn of events, but, for some reason, he's reluctant to accept it as reality. What he needs to do is wake up a bit more thoroughly, and reassess his priorities.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do, however, is interrogate Edward. He wants to know just how deeply these newly-awoken feelings run, and to figure out how the two of them are going to move forward from here. He's still irrationally afraid that Edward will reject him, will change his mind and run for the hills, and he's not sure how he would cope if such a thing were to happen. It would certainly not be pretty.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He's broken from his thoughts when Edward stands abruptly, adjusting his glasses and refusing to meet Oswald's gaze. He clears his throat, awkwardness evident in his posture and the faintest blush across his cheeks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll see to it that your itineraries for the day are ready for your perusal," he says, his tone strained and stiff. "Excuse me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He rushes from the room before Oswald is coherent enough to protest. Oswald flops onto his back as soon as the door is closed, letting out a shaky breath and attempting to make sense of what just happened.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The potion really has worked. He finds himself laughing helplessly and incredulously.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He eats every morsel of the delicious breakfast Edward prepared for him. Hopefully, he thinks, it is the first of many. Then he performs his morning routines with an efficiency that impresses even him, before finally dressing and going in search of the man he loves.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He finds him hunched over his desk, sorting through a stack of papers. Oswald doesn't hesitate to make himself known, straightening his back and summoning all the courage within him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Edward."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward almost jumps at the sound of his voice, whirling to face him. He appears to have regained some of his usual composure, although he still seems slightly flustered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oswald, I apologise for upsetting you earlier-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before Edward can launch into any sort of explanation, Oswald cuts him off, waving a hand dismissively. "You did nothing of the sort. In fact, I'm the one who needs to apologise."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"There's nothing-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Edward, please, let me finish. This is very important to me. I reacted poorly when we spoke before. Your confession took me by surprise, and I needed to collect my thoughts to ensure that I wouldn't say anything I would later regret. I have to ask... did you mean what you said?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald wishes the insecurity wasn't quite so obvious in his tone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward's response, however, is almost painfully sincere. "With every fibre of my being."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently, the concoction from Ivy has also done wonders for Edward's confidence. In all the time Oswald has known him, he's not been the type to be so forthright about his emotions, even though he undoubtedly still feels things deeply within himself. Still, Oswald needs to steel himself before he asks his next question.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How long have you felt this way?" Oswald has to know. Or, rather, he already knows, but he wants to hear what Edward will say. He wonders whether Edward will have been convinced that his feelings are longstanding, or whether he will recognise their sudden nature. If the second, Oswald may be required to do some damage control before Edward starts thinking about it too deeply, because he's bound to realise that something untoward has happened to him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't be sure," is Edward's answer, after a few moments of pondering the subject. "You were a fascination to me before we even met, and I've always had a great admiration for you. I couldn't possibly pinpoint the moment that my feelings for you surpassed a simple friendship."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald gasps before he can suppress it, a small, sharp inhale that comes from a place of wonder. Edward sounds wonderfully </span>
  <em>
    <span>genuine</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It would be so easy, so ridiculously easy, to forget all about the potion and simply take his words at face value. What a dangerously tempting idea.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"And… what would your expectations be?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward's expression changes from cautiously besotted to vaguely concerned. "I was serious when I said that nothing needs to change between us. Our current relationship is enough for me. All I want is to remain at your side as you continue to build your empire."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald groans with momentary frustration, pursing his lips. "You're so…" he starts, but he trails off, forcing himself to refocus. He wants this conversation to move in one specific direction, and it's not going to happen if he starts throwing impulsive insults around. "Alright, listen. Let's say, hypothetically, that I love you back. Let's say that I desire more than a friendly relationship with you. Let's say that I want anything you would be willing to give me. What would your response be?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He finds himself scrutinised as he waits for a response. Edward's gaze, razor sharp, tracks every minute change in his facial expression, presumably looking for any evidence of trickery. Then, after a few tense moments, the corners of Edward's lips quirk upwards.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Is this really a hypothetical situation?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Exhaling deeply, Oswald takes a step closer. "Indulge me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward steps closer too, until they're almost toe to toe. Their height difference is at its most obvious with this proximity, Oswald having to tilt his chin upwards while Edward peers down at him. In his peripheral vision, Oswald notices Edward clenching and unclenching his fist at his side, and he instinctively knows the feeling; the temptation to reach out and touch Edward's face is almost too much. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They stare at each other for so long that Oswald starts to forget that he's expecting a response at all, and he blinks when Edward speaks into the remaining space between them, his voice quiet and reverent. "I would say that nothing could make me happier."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It would take a stronger man than Oswald to resist such a declaration. Finally, and to his own relief, he manages to shove all his doubts about this to perish in the back of his mind. His heart pounds so hard that he's surprised Edward can't hear it, and now he does reach out, taking one of Edward's hands delicately in his own.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> "It's not hypothetical."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Time slows down as Edward's free hand comes up to cradle his jaw, then slips back into his hair as he leans in. He pauses just before they make contact; Oswald can't tell whether it's from trepidation or whether he's just giving Oswald one last opportunity to back out, but it forces a whine from the back of his throat before he closes the remaining distance himself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward's lips are gentle and soft, and the kiss so much better than Oswald could ever have imagined. His eyes close and his entire body unfurls into the simple touch as his fingers tighten around Edward's hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He's dreamed of this moment, craved the impossibility of it. Now that it's happening, he cannot fathom how he has ever lived without it. Edward's hand against his skull sears him, a grounding contact that prevents him from simply floating away, and Oswald shudders at the sensation of short nails grazing the back of his scalp. He feels more than hears Edward's contented rumble, increasing the pressure in response. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's chaste, and lingering, and utterly perfect.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When they part, they remain close, foreheads pressed together and breathing the same air. Oswald opens his eyes to find that Edward's are still closed, as if clinging to the moment. He licks his lips without thinking. Edward's thumb strokes across his cheekbone and past his hairline. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He's dazed, but Oswald still recognises that another opportunity like this is unlikely to present itself, so he takes a deep breath and shows his cards.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I love you, Edward."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward's smile is blinding and brilliant, and worth every ounce of the risk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At Edward's insistence, they make dinner reservations for that very evening. He says that he wants the opportunity to date Oswald properly, and the mere thought of it makes Oswald giddy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They travel together to the upscale French restaurant that Edward has chosen, their hands clasped across the seats. It almost gives Oswald that teenage feeling, as if he's doing something he's not supposed to, and it's wonderfully exciting. To be fair, it probably would be rather scandalous if the press caught wind of his budding relationship with his own Chief of Staff, and that's hardly a storm he's quite ready to weather.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's for this reason that they have mutually agreed to be subtle about this new arrangement between them. Oswald, in particular, doesn't want anything to spoil this before it's even had the chance to begin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Having said that, Edward looks positively dashing this evening, and Oswald isn't optimistic about his own ability to restrain his affections now that he knows they're welcome. Edward catches him staring, and flashes him a smile that makes his heart thump harder in his ribcage.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When they arrive at the restaurant and are shown to their table, Edward even pulls out his chair for him, making sure Oswald is comfortable before seating himself. Already, Oswald can feel himself starting to blush as he stammers out his thanks, the gentlemanly gesture and the indication of romance threatening to sweep him off his feet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If Edward is trying to impress him even more than usual, it's certainly working.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They've ordered drinks from a young waitress, and Oswald has just started to peruse the menu, when Edward speaks to him across the table.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I make you weak at the worst of times. I keep you safe, I keep you fine. I make your hands sweat and your heart grow cold. I visit the weak, but seldom the bold. What am I?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oswald looks up. Edward is peering at him over the top of his own menu, his expression equal parts hopeful and nervous. It's quite endearing, and distracting enough that Oswald takes a few seconds to really process what Edward has asked him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Forgive me," he answers, "I can't concentrate on solving a riddle right now." He smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring way, but it doesn't seem to hit right, because Edward's face falls slightly as he averts his gaze downwards.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"We don't have to stay. We don't have to do this at all, if you don't want to."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Full of an instinctive desire to put Edward at ease, Oswald abandons any pretence of subtlety and reaches across the table to grasp his hand tightly. "Of course I want to. It's just… it's been a very long time since I've been on any sort of date. I fear I'm out of practice."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward doesn't look at him, but he does squeeze his hand back. "It's been a while for me too."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Someone like you?" Oswald scoffs. "You can't expect me to believe that."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Committing murder and spending time in Arkham tend to put a dent into one's dating life. Even before all that, I was hardly popular."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There's something sad and self-deprecating about Edward's smile that makes Oswald tense. Somehow, he wishes he could have been around to make Edward feel wanted throughout his life, because surely that's the least he deserves, but the best he can do is come to his defence now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Then you must have been surrounded by morons your whole life."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That makes Edward chuckle a little. "You didn't like me either, when we first met."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's an unfortunately accurate statement. Still, how could Oswald have known that the tall, needy man who approached him at the GCPD would become such an important fixture in his life? Back when he was half-dead and wallowing miserably as a prisoner in Edward's apartment, how could he have possibly predicted that he would fall irreversibly in love with the eccentric man aiding his recovery?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He ought to consider himself lucky that his poor attitude towards Edward during those early days didn't scare him off. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I suppose that's true," he concedes. "But it wasn't long before I succumbed to your charms."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Saying such a thing aloud serves to intensify his blush, but thankfully the waitress appears with their drinks before Edward can respond. Oswald reluctantly releases Edward's hand and instead attempts to give his attention to his wine glass. It's a welcome distraction for a moment, and once they've given their food orders, they lapse into silence for a few moments before Edward speaks again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How long?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Come again?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How long did it take? For me to charm you?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps it should be a difficult question to answer, but in fact Oswald finds it surprisingly easy to remember when his feelings began to shift out of general annoyance and towards something more agreeable. "Well… I think the killing of Mr Leonard was rather a turning point in our relationship, wouldn't you say?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward grins immediately, the memory clearly evoking something nostalgic in him too. "Yes. You were magnificent."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"As were you," Oswald says. "I saw a whole different side of you that day."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He remembers it vividly. The blood, the muffled screams, the shared laughter as they traded the knife back and forth, and inflicted unimaginable pain. The feeling of bonding with another human being, and the realisation that maybe this could be the start of something great. A deep and true friendship. If Oswald could only have foreseen just how important Edward would become!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward rests his chin in one hand, gazing at Oswald with an unreadable expression. "And you liked what you saw?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Very much."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They share another smile, and this time it's charged with something electric. Oswald is the first to look away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Their food arrives promptly at their table, because Oswald's name tends to have that effect wherever he goes. They eat for a while, amiably chattering about nothing in particular. During a lull in the conversation, Edward reaches across the table and takes Oswald's hand in his own once again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oswald, I know that this is all very sudden. But I want to make sure that you know you can trust me. Whatever happens."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Taken aback slightly by the sudden display of sincerity, Oswald laces their fingers together, Edward's skin firm and warm against his own. "I appreciate that. And I do trust you, Ed. You're the most important person in my life."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Edward exhales, apparently relieved, and strokes his thumb across Oswald's knuckles. "That feeling is mutual."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>An unpleasant tightness constricts around Oswald's heart. Although he pretends nothing is wrong, he can't quite make the sensation go away.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I found the riddle online, I did not make it up myself.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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